She Does Not Cry
by Icie911
Summary: 'Tears will are always there, as storms will always rage - they are not things to control.' But for some, tears cannot fall. 'Everyone has a reason to live; a reason that life itself will give - but what if the reason is taken away? And then you're left to wither away...' Life has never been fair. It never will be. And Haibara... Haibara is alone once more. Angsty one-shot.


_**She Does Not Cry...**_

_-:oneshot:-_

* * *

A strawberry blond with eyes like the stars kneels on the earth, in front of the carved stone. Her layered hair is as silky and lustrous as always, her skin smooth and clear. Her heart shaped face, delicate jawline, and high cheekbones mark her out as stunningly beautiful – not that she ever cares. She looks as effortlessly lovely as always, her face a perfect mask of indifference. The female's eyes are almond-shaped, the color of a crystalline shimmered sea or an exquisite butterfly's wing. And it is her eyes that give away her grief.

She traces the engraved lettering on the gravestone, eyes shadowed and darkened. Her beautiful eyes hold secrets, secrets and a terribly heavy burden. She is much too old for her age, she knows much too much about the horrors of life than she should. But these are merely what lurk behind the brilliance of her eyes. What is new in that aquamarine color is the almost fragile look of broken glass. In the bloodred sunset, the sky streaked with bright oranges and deep reds, the sun a massive circle of dying light, a faint gloss glimmers in her eyes. A normal onlooker might have blindly assumed the glimmer to be tears.

But… if you know the female, you know that can't be. She is not crying. The logic in that being…?

Haibara Ai, simply put, does not cry.

The girl closes her eyes, resting her head gently against the cool stone. She inhales softly, hands dropping lightly the earth. She never cries.

_/_

_Not even for me?_ A certain raven-haired boy teases in her mind.

A sad smile, barely there, touches her features. _No, baka ne, not even for you,_ she responds, light-hearted words gilded with underlying sorrow.

_Aww…_ the boy's eyes sparkle with mischievousness. _Why not, Haibara?_

_Because it's ridiculous_, she tells him softly. _Ridiculous._

But then his electric blue eyes become serious, and his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. _Is it, Haibara?_ His face is that of a child, but his eyes (it is always the eyes that give them away) are grave and as aged as her own. _Is it that ridiculous to cry? _He has dropped the pretense of her crying for him.

She can't bear to look at him any longer. Turning her face away and biting her lip, she replies, _I don't cry. I will not cry, and I cannot cry. Tears are luxuries I will never be able to afford, Edogawa-kun._

The boy gives her a long look that is both sad and wistful. _Just remember, Haibara,_ he whispers, dark locks swaying in the wind. They fall in front of his brilliant eyes, and he says, _Just remember that crying is not a sign of weakness._

_ No?_ She humors him, still not able to meet those prying eyes she knows so well, those eyes that strike straight into the depths of her soul.

_No,_ he sighs softly, _they are a sign that someone has been strong for far too long. And if there is anyone like that, Haibara, then it is you. You are only human, after all._

The girl, in her mind's eye, sees the boy slowly fade, leaving her alone once more. She opens her eyes, exhaling softly. Watching the small swirl of breath that floats into the rapidly cooling air, she drops her head, layered strands shadowing her eyes.

_But, Kudo-kun – that's where you're wrong. I am no human. I am a monster; a heartless, emotionless being. And I cannot cry._

/

As she stands, Haibara brushes off the crumbly, rich dirt, placing a single orchid down in front of the grave. _A ran, you forever lovesick tantei,_ she thinks, slightly bitter. _She was always your orchid, after all._

And then she turns her back, away from the grave, away from the cerise drenched sunset. A breeze swirls by, ruffling her hair lightly. _He will never grow up,_ she mourns silently, _never be his true self again, never return to his sweetheart._

She walks away, footsteps light. Not once does she look back, not a single instance. As she leaves, her mask of indifference falls into place once again. Her skin creamy porcelain, her hair silken strands, her features flawless.

Her eyes crystal-cut, sapphire.

Haunted.

She subconsciously notes the trickling warmth dripping down her cheek. Saltily staining her face. She doesn't bother wiping them away. It must've started raining, and to try and swipe away raindrops before the storm is over is foolhardy and pointless.

It must've been rain.

After all, Haibara Ai does not cry.

* * *

**/fin/**


End file.
